


A Bad Night

by Firondoiel



Series: Recovery [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Art, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Whump, Worried Qui-Gon Jinn, Written for the QuiObi Writing Discord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27484948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firondoiel/pseuds/Firondoiel
Summary: Nights are always the hardest. Obi-Wan feels mostly lucid during the day now, but he never knows what exactly the night will hold for him.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Recovery [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862353
Comments: 43
Kudos: 233





	1. A Bad Night

**Author's Note:**

> The Recovery series is a collaborative effort by LuvEwan, happygiraffe, sanerontheinside, and me.
> 
> This vignette is a little late. Another update will be posted on Sunday, November 22nd. Enjoy!

Nights were always the hardest. Obi-Wan felt mostly lucid during the day now, but he never knew what exactly the night would hold for him. The one certainty was that it wouldn't be a peaceful, uninterrupted sleep. The nightmares haunted him relentlessly. Memories of yellow eyes and flashes of red. Knowing he wouldn't be able to stop his enemy’s saber from running him through. Sometimes he heard Qui-Gon screaming, but he thought that part must be imagined. He has never heard that kind of anguish from his master before. He had felt it once...when Master Tahl had passed. But even then, Qui-Gon didn’t scream like that. 

The memories didn't restrict themselves to Naboo. Obi-Wan wondered how many times he would relive each horror of his life before the healers released him. 

_If_ they released him. 

Sometimes the rehab and assisted living ward passed through his dreams. The place where Jedi who were too elderly or too injured received the care necessary to see them through the end of their days.

Vokara recently had him moved to regular care. His vitals had remained stable long enough that he no longer needed the constant monitoring and was due to start physical therapy soon. Obi-Wan supposed the next step after regular care would be to assisted living. The thought didn't jab at him like the memories did, but it still ached. 

He glanced at Qui-Gon. His master’s stubbornness had finally worn down Vokara’s resolve that he should sleep in his quarters in the hope that he would actually rest. A cot now sat along the wall opposite Obi-Wan’s bed. It was too small, and his master’s feet comically hung off the end of it, but Qui-Gon had been very pleased with his victory. He would have been content to continue sleeping in the chair, but the cot meant Vokara would no longer badger him about leaving for the night. While Qui-Gon did disappear during the day sometimes, usually to mentor Anakin, he always returned to Obi-Wan’s room at the Healers to sleep. 

The worst nights for Obi-Wan were the ones where his nightmares showed him what could have been. His life without Qui-Gon, having failed his master on Naboo. He never retained the specifics, but a deep and overwhelming sadness stayed with him long after he woke from one of those dreams. 

Qui-Gon and the healers told him that there were some nights when he woke confused or feverish. While he was aware of very little, his body usually exhausted itself by morning, and he spent the day in a heavily medicated slumber.

Tonight was different. He had the dream about Naboo again-the memory of how it happened. The Sith’s blade plunging into his body usually startled him awake, but this time, he thought he must still be dreaming. He still felt the blade burning into him. Even now, pain ripped through him, making him seize and sweat trying to withstand it. 

He drew on the Force to aid him, but it slipped through his clumsy grasp. He wondered if the wound had somehow reopened, even though he knew that couldn't be. It has been months since Naboo. Pain and discomfort have become familiar companions, but this excruciating agony made his stomach roil with nausea. The only times that he had felt inklings of this kind of pain had been right before his next dose of medication. 

The pain meds.

Vokara had moved him to a different dose after his complaints of being too foggy and disoriented. Today and tonight were supposed to be the trial run, and Obi-Wan hated to admit that he may have made a mistake. Every bit of him hurt like hell.

Except for his legs. Everything else burned, but his legs remained numb. 

He had already figured it out when the healers deemed him stable enough to be appraised of his condition. There was hope that he might still recover some sensation, but Obi-Wan had chosen to follow one of his master’s strongest beliefs; focus on the here and now. His quiet acceptance of the situation had visibly concerned Qui-Gon. His master had shown more open emotion in the past few months than he had in the past decade. 

Not that Qui-Gon was an unfeeling man. He was a seasoned Jedi Master. He exuded serenity and control, but Obi-Wan knew well that Qui-Gon felt everything much deeper than most would ever suspect. It was his compassion and fervor that made him the “maverick”, not mere obstinacy. Although he did also have that trait in spades. 

Obi-Wan huffed out a breath in quiet amusement, but then the pain wracked through him again, and it choked off into a gasp. He grabbed at his middle with one hand, clutching at the brace over the wound-the source of the pain. A tear spilled from the outer corner of his eye and fell to the pillow. 

He was on his back tonight, but now he regretted not asking them to settle him on his side. His body felt too exposed this way. He couldn't curl inward against the pain like he badly wished. Instinct told him to protect his stomach, to make himself small. Without the use of his legs, he lacked the strength to resituate himself, and just the thought of moving made the pain flare up into his chest and twist around his spine. He tried to breathe through it, but his lungs tightened up on him. The saber was still inside him, torturing and destroying his body. 

His eyes flew open when a hand touched his forehead. He didn't remember closing them. More tears escaped. 

Qui-Gon stared down at him, looking worried. He always looked worried these days, even when he thought he was hiding it. Another hand lightly rested on Obi-Wan’s neck, measuring the rapid pulse. 

“Obi-Wan?”

The urgency in his voice told Obi-Wan that this wasn't the first time his master had called to him. He swallowed back the bile threatening to rise in his throat, sparing a quick moment to beg the Force that he won't actually vomit. He didn't have a chance of handling that additional pain at the moment. 

Qui-Gon carefully loosened Obi-Wan's hand from its death-grip on the blanket and wrapped his long fingers around it, squeezing a little when Obi-Wan clung to him. 

“I’m going to find a healer.” Qui-Gon smoothed some sweaty hairs away from Obi-Wan’s face. 

Obi-Wan panicked. “No,” he whispered, tightening his hold on Qui-Gon’s hand. 

“You need relief now.” Another reassuring squeeze. 

“No,” Obi-Wan repeated stubbornly. He knew that it could take longer for response calls in regular care. The healer to patient ratio was much lower. 

“I won’t be gone long.” Warm lips brushed over his forehead. 

“M-master.” He sounded so weak. Frustrated, he swiped his tongue over his rough and cracked lips as he tried to find his voice. “No.” 

“What is it, Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon made no move to get up, which calmed Obi-Wan a little. 

“S’too soon.” The words were stronger, but they slurred together slightly. “Need to wait.” 

“Obi-Wan…” 

“No.” 

Qui-Gon sighed. Obi-Wan flinched and then hissed when the agony whited out his vision. 

“Breathe, Padawan. I’m right here. I’m not leaving. Breathe through it.” 

Obi-Wan latched onto his master’s voice as he rode the wave of pain rushing through him, threatening to pull him under, but he knew that Qui-Gon wouldn't let him drown in it. 

“Need to wait,” Obi-Wan said again as soon as he was able. 

“You don’t have to.” Qui-Gon’s hand was on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “This isn’t a trial that you are expected to bear.”

“Need to.” Obi-Wan wanted to explain more, to tell Qui-Gon how he hated the stupor that came with the heavy meds. How he needed to have control over _something_ , but he couldn't get the words out. He could only hope that Qui-Gon understood. 

His master stood motionless by the bed. Obi-Wan could tell that he was struggling between wanting to help his padawan while also wanting to respect his wishes. 

“Please,” Obi-Wan whispered. 

“It will be nearly an hour before your next dose.”

“S’alright.”

Qui-Gon took a slow breath. “Alright. What can I do?”

“Can you...m-move me to...m’side?”

“Of course.”

Qui-Gon moved him gently-his hands were always so gentle. So careful. He propped pillows around him and adjusted them several times until satisfied that Obi-Wan was secure before sitting in the chair by the bed. It felt so far away. 

“Master?” 

“Yes?”

“Can you...be closer?” 

Qui-Gon hesitated for a moment then stood and slowly eased himself down to sit on the edge of Obi-Wan’s bed. Every movement was painstakingly careful, like Obi-Wan might shatter if he moved too quickly. But at least now, his master was close enough that Obi-Wan could feel the warmth from his body-the strong, powerful body that now provided protection for his vulnerable stomach. 

Fingers gently carded through his hair, idly playing with the strands in a way that Obi-Wan found soothing. He picked up on something at Qui-Gon’s touch. A memory.

“You’re thinking of…” Obi-Wan paused to breathe, winded from the shift to his side. “Master Tahl?”

“Yes.” Qui-Gon surprisingly didn't avoid the question. “So were you?”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan closed his eyes. The image of his master sitting at Master Tahl’s deathbed echoed in his mind. “This room reminds you of her?”

Qui-Gon was quiet, but his fingers kept stroking Obi-Wan’s hair-it had started to grow out, already longer than it had ever been. "At times,” he said eventually. “Usually the times when I am most worried for you.” 

Guilt and warmness both surged in Obi-Wan’s chest. “Sorry,” he gasped out. One of his hands clenched the blanket tightly, the knuckles turning white. His entire body throbbed in time with his heartbeat. “Don’t want you to worry.” 

“Worry is unavoidable for a master.” Qui-Gon’s hand found Obi-Wan’s again and peeled the fingers away from their desperate hold on the blanket. “Here.” He took Obi-Wan’s hand in his own. “Squeeze my hand for the pain.”

Obi-Wan tried, and it helped at first, but he lacked the strength to maintain a grip for too long. His hand soon feel limp, even though the pain continues. Qui-Gon pressed his hand gently, to remind him that he was not alone. He thought of Qui-Gon watching Master Tahl as she died, and his guilt grew stronger.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

“Don’t be.” There was an oddness to his master’s voice. “Your pain is hardly your fault. Is it?”

Obi-Wan barely heard the last two words Qui-Gon murmured, but they still bothered him. Qui-Gon wasn't supposed to know something. He couldn't remember what. 

“I don’t know.” Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed. His fingers briefly grappled at Qtui-Gon’s when another spasm worked through him. 

“Easy. Keep breathing,” Qui-Gon encouraged softly. “You’ll be alright. Just a little longer.”

“I’ll make it.”

“I know you will.” 

Obi-Wan risked opening his eyes when the pain ebbed a little. He saw his hand encased by Qui-Gon’s larger one. Both of them resting on top of Qui-Gon’s knee. When he looked up, his master’s sad eyes stared back at him. Qui-Gon thought Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to notice his pain. But he did.

“You always said…” Obi-Wan breathed, “...that I had a talent for trouble.” 

He expected Qui-Gon to at least crack a grin, but his joke fell flat. Qui-Gon quickly glanced away, blinking several times before he looked back with a forced smile on his face. 

“My master alway told me that he hoped I had a padawan as obstinate as myself one day.” 

“You? Obstinate? Never.” 

Qui-Gon’s smile warmed. “You may not believe it now, but there was many a time that Master Dooku and I did not see eye to eye.” 

“Like all the times you...tried to smuggle an Akk Dog...in...into…”

“ _All_ the times?” Qui-Gon said when Obi-Wan starts to struggle. “That only happened twice, but no, Dooku was not particularly pleased either time.”

“Three times,” Obi-Wan corrected wryly. 

“It might have been three times.” Qui-Gon ran his free hand along Obi-Wan’s back, directing a healing touch of the Force into his body. It provided a little relief, but they both knew it was very temporary. 

“It was three times,” Obi-Wan insisted. “And that’s only counting the dogs.”

“Three times,” Qui-Gon agreed. His hand returned to Obi-Wan’s brow, wiping away beads of sweat. “We were on a diplomacy mission. Staying in this senator’s home. A very grandiose place. A litter had been born in the stables a few weeks before we arrived.” 

Peace settled over Obi-Wan for a moment as he let his master’s comforting voice wash over him. He hung on each word for as long as the pain would allow him.

“The young stable boy offered me a pup. He very easily saw that I was taken with the smallest of the litter. She required extra care because she was too weak to compete with her siblings for food. Few people ever want the runt.”

“Always taking in strays.”

“Yes.” Qui-Gon sounded pleased that Obi-Wan was actually following the story. “I managed to keep her hidden in my room for 3 days before she escaped and shredded Dooku’s dress robes while we were gone.”

“What did Master Dooku say?”

“A great many things. As I recall, he claimed to be most disappointed. But it was more like most disgruntled at having to wear his ‘common robes’, as he called them, to dinner. Even though they were much finer than any other Jedi Master in the Order.”

Obi-Wan smirked over Qui-Gon’s thinly veiled scorn. No doubt his master was mostly putting it on for his benefit, but it still amused him. He sighed. “The poor pup though.” 

“Oh, I still managed to sneak her on board the transport and back to the Temple where I argued very strongly to keep her.” 

Mirth bubbled inside Obi-Wan, but a sharp pang from the wound area reminded him that he shouldn’t laugh. He hummed instead, imagining his master as a young padawan craning his neck to look up at Master Dooku and unflinchingly return his glare. “How old were you?”

“Twenty, I believe. Possibly twenty-one.”

A snort burst from Obi-Wan before he could stop it. It was an instant mistake, and the pain flared inside him. He again wished he could curl into the fetal position, but the brace around his middle wouldn't let him. Neither would his legs. He tried not to think about the dead weight of his legs. 

He was gripping Qui-Gon’s hand again when awareness came back to him. Qui-Gon was rubbing his upper back and talking to him softly, but Obi-Wan couldn't understand the words just yet. Just the comforting sound of his master's voice.

Something stirred in the back of his brain. A sense of remembrance, but too blurred to completely comprehend. Obi-Wan scrunched his eyebrows together. “Have you told me that story before?” he asked, hating how breathless he sounded. 

“Perhaps. It’s possible that I have.” 

Qui-Gon barely hesitated before he answered-probably less than a second, but Obi-Wan got a sick feeling in his stomach. The same feeling that had overcome him several times lately, like he was staring at a long tapestry, but it was smudged and faded, riddled with holes. Holes he couldn't quite mend, but he could make out some of the imagery at times. 

“You gave the pup to another padawan,” Obi-Wan said dully. “A padawan with a master more lenient regarding pets.” 

“Yes, I did.” 

Qui-Gon pressed Obi-Wan’s hand, then moved onto another story about one of his strays. Obi-Wan listened, grateful for the distraction, but he couldn't stop the deadness spreading inside him. Broken body. Broken mind. Why should he even fight? If he said the word, Qui-Gon would have a healer and pain meds for him in a minute or less. He would spend tomorrow in a daze and possibly every day after that, but maybe it would be for the best. 

Except Qui-Gon wouldn't move on. He would stay trapped in this room watching Obi-Wan suffer until his shell of a padawan transferred to assisted living, and Obi-Wan couldn't bear the thought of his master doing that. But he also couldn't bear the thought of being left here alone. He wanted to keep Qui-Gon with him as long as possible, knowing that was selfish. But he also knew he wouldn't do that to his master. He _couldn't_ do that. 

“Obi-Wan? Are you with me?” Qui-Gon wiped a tear away from Obi-Wan’s face. Obi-Wan blinked, startled over the wetness in his eyes. 

“Obi-Wan?”

“How much longer?” 

Qui-Gon studied the chrono then nodded as he came to a decision. “We’re close enough. You should be able to take the next dose now.” 

Obi-Wan let out a relieved breath. The pain had become even more cruel, stabbing into him with no respite. He dreaded Qui-Gon leaving him for a moment, but resisted that thought. He could handle a moment alone with the pain.

However, the door opened before Qui-Gon could rise from the bed. One of the night shift healers entered. 

“Hi, Obi-Wan. Master Jinn.” She smiled at them both. ”I know it’s a little early for your next dose, but it’s safe for you to take it now. Given that this is your first night on this dosage, I thought that might be preferable.” 

“Yes, thank you.” Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. The pain seemed to realize its hold on him was coming to an end and furiously wracked through him. 

“It should take effect quickly,” Qui-Gon said as he took the medication from the healer and helped Obi-Wan raise his head enough to swallow it. 

Obi-Wan sunk wearily into the pillow, waiting for the medication to work while the healer checked his vitals. She didn't ask Qui-Gon to move. He stayed by Obi-Wan’s side holding his hand, also waiting for the pain to end. 

It only took a few minutes for Obi-Wan to notice a difference, but those minutes took hours to pass. Qui-Gon sensed when Obi-Wan relaxes just a little bit. “There you go,” he sighed heavily and found more hairs to brush away from Obi-Wan’s forehead. 

The healer finished up and smoothed the blankets over Obi-Wan’s legs. Obi-Wan went very still. 

“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon felt the sudden surge of emotion in Obi-Wan. “What is it?”

“It’s…” Obi-Wan trailed off, looking at first Qui-Gon and then the healer with wide eyes. 

“Is the pain worsening?” The healer frowned and turned to one of the monitors.

“No, no. It’s better. Much better. I think.” Obi-Wan babbled. 

“Obi-Wan, are-”

“When she moved the blanket...” Obi-Wan cut off Qui-Gon’s worried question. “I felt that.” 

Qui-Gon’s gaze snapped towards Obi-Wan’s legs as though he would be able to detect something by staring, then looked to the healer. She was already moving back to the bed.

“Alright, Obi-Wan. I need you to look at the wall for me.” She made Qui-Gon stand this time so she could pull the coverings all the way down. 

Qui-Gon leaned over the bed so he could keep Obi-Wan’s hand in his. Obi-Wan looked at his face instead of the wall, but Qui-Gon’s eyes were fixed on the healer. 

“I feel that,” Obi-Wan blurted out. 

Qui-Gon released the breath he had been holding and tightened his fingers around Obi-Wan’s hand. 

“That’s good, Obi-Wan,” the healer said calmly. “Tell me if you feel anything else.” 

“I feel that. It’s faint, but I feel it,” Obi-Wan repeated. Qui-Gon looked at him, his face bright with excitement. 

“That’s good. And now?” The healer continued on with Obi-Wan feeling nearly every touch. Qui-Gon’s happiness grew by the second, and Obi-Wan’s eyes watered. 

“This is all good, Obi-Wan.” The healer now stood at the foot of the bed. “Can you move your toes for me?” 

“I... “ Obi-Wan’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t know.” 

“What does this mean?” Qui-Gon asked quickly.

“It’s alright,” The healer reassured. “Obi-Wan, you haven’t used these muscles in a long time. It’s going to be difficult.” 

Obi-Wan focused inward, the way he used to when he prepared for a spar. His legs weighed him down, and some of the healer's touches had been weak, but he had still felt them. Tense silence returned to the room for a moment. All eyes were on his feet. 

His toes twitched. 

Matching smiles broke out on Obi-Wan's and Qui-Gon's face. The healer grinned back. “This is a very good sign, Obi-Wan. We’ll run some more tests tomorrow. There is a chance that sensation will come and go or that there won’t be much progress beyond this, but…” her smile widened. ”This is very promising.”

Qui-Gon leaned his forehead against Obi-Wan’s, and entwined their hands in a crushing grip. Emotion proud into their bond, so strong that neither one of them had words. They said nothing as the healer replaced the blankets and bid them goodnight as she left. Obi-Wan wanted to sob, but he released that impulse into the Force. He had forgotten what hope felt like. 

Eventually, Qui-Gon sat back. His own eyes glistened in the faint light. “You need to rest now.” He cupped Obi-Wan’s cheek for a moment before standing. 

Obi-Wan felt the loss as Qui-Gon pulled away. The comforting warmth leeched from his body, and he shivered.

“Master?”

“Yes, Obi-Wan?”

“Don’t go.”

“I’m not leaving. I’ll be just across the room. Only a few steps away.”

Obi-Wan shivered again. His exhaustion caught up to him, but he couldn't give himself to sleep just yet. Qui-Gon draped another blanket over him, and Obi-Wan tried to hold in his disappointment. Then the bed dipped as Qui-Gon again eased himself onto the edge. He carefully laid one arm over Obi-Wan, making him sigh as his muscles relaxed from both the warmth and the close presence of his master. 

“Go to sleep, Padawan,” Qui-Gon murmured, lightly kissing Obi-Wan’s temple just as he fell asleep.

Qui-Gon was still sitting there when Obi-Wan woke up the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments of any length are greatly appreciated.


	2. Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful art by the incomparable new-anon.

_He had forgotten what hope felt like_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! I hope you all had a good holiday season. We are back to writing and will resume our posting schedule this coming Sunday, January 10th. :)


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